


It's Mutual

by Broccoli_San



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: But like really vague, But you'll get it I swear, Fluff, Kiyoomi is really very gentle I stand with soft Kiyoomi, Love Confessions, M/M, Rated T for Atsumu's foul mouth, SO MUCH FLUFF, Sunsets and confession time baby, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, reciprocated feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28956366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broccoli_San/pseuds/Broccoli_San
Summary: Maybe Atsumu's feelings weren't one-sided after all.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 157





	It's Mutual

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, I am weak in the knees for soft boi Kiyoomi, especially if it's for Atsumu.
> 
> Edit 25/1: Went through the fic once again and fixed some minor misspellings and correcting Atsumu's accents.

Atsumu was pretty sure the love of his life was about to end his life.

Earlier in the evening, Atsumu was getting done changing when Kiyoomi burst into the locker room and promptly pulled him away wriggling and screaming into his car. Atsumu’s fight-or-flight response immediately kicked in and he was about to jump out of the vehicle when he found out that Kiyoomi had fucking _locked_ him in. After a stern order to put on his seatbelt, Atsumu opened his mouth to spew a row of questions, but Kiyoomi sent him a _don’t-fucking-test-me, Miya_ look that he closed his mouth again.

His first thought was that Kiyoomi had finally got done handling his shit. The team they had to face in the match was so boring that Atsumu decided to half-ass it through, wanting to spare his energy for their upcoming match against the Adlers next week. Kiyoomi had sent him reproachful glares throughout the game, obviously disapproving of his lacklustre effort, but Atsumu still sent him perfect spikes that echoed across the stadium as they ricocheted off the floor. So what the hell did he do to piss Kiyoomi off this time?

Atsumu sneaked a glance at Kiyoomi. He was silent and frowning, but he was always silent and frowning, so that was an unhelpful observation.

Atsumu also belatedly realized that the car was heading towards a more hidden part of Osaka, the headlights on the streets slowly dimming as they left the city behind. A cold shiver ran down his spine. He _was_ right, Kiyoomi had snapped and he was about to murder him in cold blood and proceeded to throw him off a cliff in the mountainside—

“I’m not going to kill you.” Kiyoomi finally broke the silence with a disgruntled sigh. He glanced over at Atsumu, who was unconsciously putting his hands together in a futile prayer.

“That’s what all murderers say, Omi-kun!!” Atsumu yelped as Kiyoomi took a sharp turn in a corner, the tires screeching in protest at the sudden drift. “Fucking hell!”

“You better shut your mouth before I decide to change my mind, Miya.” Kiyoomi replied dryly, turning his attention back to the road. His ominous threat hung heavy in the air, but Atsumu was never an obedient child.

Instead of shutting up like he was supposed to, he started rambling off a bunch of stuff of his to-do list. “Omi-omi, once you’re done finishin’ me off, tell 'Samu that he should be missing his better twin. Oh, and tell Shoyou-kun that he better not moved to Adlers to get back with that goody-two-shoes boyfriend of his—”

“We’re here.”

“… also, you need to feed my dogs… huh?”

The car had, indeed, stopped moving. Kiyoomi unclicked his seatbelt and got out the car, with Atsumu rambling to follow. He stepped out and took in a sharp breath.

Kiyoomi had really brought him to the mountainside. They were in a parking lot off the road, with the view of glittering lights across the city. The constant turns made sense now, but it didn’t make him feel any better. The gentle breeze did feel nice on his heated skin, cooling off the sweat that he had worked up in the car.

“Miya, get over here.” Kiyoomi called for him, his voice unusually monotone considering the fact that he was about to kill someone. Then again, Kiyoomi gave off the vibe of an emotionally constipated serial killer anyway. Atsumu worked up his courage and got closer to Kiyoomi, who was perched on the hood of the car.

Kiyoomi always looked good. Atsumu knew this fact to heart, even without the reminder of squealing fangirls who would go crazy over his icy demeanour. Under the setting sun, with the curls of his dark hair tinted in the scarlet rays, Kiyoomi look _otherworldly_ and unfairly pretty.

Atsumu didn’t want to die so soon, but if it was by the hands of the gorgeous setter he had admired and liked for so long, he found the thought to be bearable. He hesitantly got closer to Kiyoomi, unsure of what he should do next. Kiyoomi took notice of his discomfort and sighed again, though this time it was filled with exasperated fondness.

Kiyoomi reached out and tugged on Atsumu’s arm, until he was seated right next to him. Atsumu blinked blearily, surprised but welcoming the close contact. Kiyoomi’s hand had moved up to his shoulder, squeezing gently as if to coax him. From the show of unexpected affection, Atsumu was finally convinced that Kiyoomi hadn’t wanted to kill him after all.

Atsumu truly loved the little things that had assimilated between the two of them. From the reluctant high-fives to accepting his invitation to go out to a bar together, Atsumu had accumulated so many feelings and so much love for Kiyoomi. The gradual shift into skin-to-skin contact was reserved especially for him, a fact that Atsumu relished in more often that Kiyoomi had liked. It made him feel special, as if Kiyoomi had also reciprocated his feelings.

Now, with Kiyoomi’s chin resting on top of his head, and his hand firm and solid and _real_ on Atsumu’s shoulder, what used to be a ridiculous notion suddenly seemed to become real. Maybe he didn’t read the air wrong, and maybe he _was_ special to Kiyoomi, the same way Kiyoomi was special to him.

Atsumu mulled over this in his head, shifting his face so that he was nuzzling into the nape of Kiyoomi’s neck, breathing in the comforting smell of his shampoo. Kiyoomi let out a contemplative hum and let him do so, which sparked another bout of bravery.

“Omi-omi?” Atsumu’s voice sounded small and unsure.

“Mm?”

“Did I do somethin’ to piss you off?”

Kiyoomi’s other hand flicked him on the forehead, earning him a loud, offended squawk. “I’m not pissed off.”

Atsumu rubbed the sore spot on his forehead, pouting. “Seems like you are. You pulled me away like I was a goddamned prisoner, and you didn’t tell me where we were goin’. I thought you were mad at me for not takin' the game seriously.”

Kiyoomi didn’t immediately reply to this, which meant that he _had_ , in some semblance, been pissed off with Atsumu. But then both his arms drop down and wrapped around Atsumu’s waist, somehow managing to push them closer together. “You were always like that with the opposing teams that you deem unworthy. But it’s not always that they fight back against you.”

Atsumu took a fair few minutes to register the meaning of Kiyoomi’s vague words, trying very hard to tame the raging blush that threatened to consume him whole from how flushed he was. “Fighting back… oh, you meant the little show that shitty setter tried to pull on me?”

The match had went by uneventfully, but after it ended, the setter from the other team had stormed into their side and went into a fitful of rage at Atsumu. He had screamed murder at Atsumu, claiming him to be arrogant and full of shit. The insults bounced off Atsumu like a protective shield, since he was used to it since he was much, much younger. He didn’t particularly give a damn about the impressions that others had of him, since he knew more than anyone else that he was truly the best setter in the country.

In fact, Atsumu had not give a damn enough that he’d essentially forgotten about it. Since Kiyoomi brought it up, he must had somehow felt that Atsumu was offended. Kiyoomi was being _considerate._ He was worried that Atsumu would feel down.

Atsumu felt fuzzy with warmth and joy. “You don’t have to worry about it. I really don’t give a shit about what he said to me.”

Kiyoomi let out a soft huff that rustled Atsumu’s hair. “You _are_ cocky as hell, but you have the skills to match for it. You don’t get to be where you are now from your natural talent alone.”

The half-hearted yet genuine compliment threw Atsumu off-guard, and he peered up at Kiyoomi with disbelief. The gaze that was returned to him was filled with trust and… affection. That was affection, right? Kiyoomi still had his mask on, but his eyes were missing the usual disdain. He looked at Atsumu as if he was the only thing that mattered to him. “Geez, you tryin’ to kill me with how mushy you’re bein’ right now?”

Kiyoomi tugged his mask down, revealing a soft, gentle smile that tugged on Atsumu’s heartstrings. “If it gets the message across, sure.”

He was speaking in his vague way again, but Atsumu wholly understood the weight of his words. He was almost sure that Kiyoomi had taken decades of years off his life, with how… how _doting_ Kiyoomi was acting towards him. “Th-then why did you look so mad earlier, in the car?”

Kiyoomi scoffed. “I was trying to be nice and you acted like I was trying to kill you for real.”

“You pulled me out of the locker room without any explainin’!”

“I was holding myself back from chasing after that setter and punching him on the face.” Kiyoomi mumbled darkly.

Atsumu relished in the dark side that he had brought up in Kiyoomi. “You can’t, Omi-kun. You’d get kicked out of the team. ‘Sides, you hate touchin’ other people.”

Kiyoomi nodded in agreement. “So I just had to take out my anger on you.”

“What kinda shitty logic is that?!”

Kiyoomi graced his rage with a kiss on his forehead, before firmly pulling away and using Atsumu’s head as his chin-rest once again. Atsumu spluttered and tried to wrestle himself off Kiyoomi’s grip just to see his expression, but his hold was tight. “You need to stop pullin' off these stunts, Omi-kun. It’s bad for my heart, I swear.”

“Stop complaining and just enjoy the view.”

“I think I’d enjoy my view of _you_ more.”

“You’ll get plenty of it later on. You can’t see sunsets all time of the day.”

“Omi-kun, you kept being vague. Are we datin’ now or what?”

“We’d better be.”


End file.
